


Moped

by Rhys (rhyssj)



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-05-04
Updated: 2001-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-07 04:57:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14073366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhyssj/pseuds/Rhys
Summary: Chris buys a moped.





	Moped

"What the fuck is that, yo?" 

Chris looks at Justin and smiles. "Moped, baby. Get on." 

Justin eyes it suspiciously and shakes his head. It's late at night, and that _thing_ is making noises that make it sound like it won't make it around the corner. Plus, Chris and Justin are both grown men, and Justin's convinced they'll snap the thing in two. 

"Did you pay money for that?" Justin asks, and Chris nods, revving the engine and a puff of black smoke erupts. Chris laughs and Justin shakes his head, turning around to walk back into his house, but suddenly it's quiet and Chris has him by the arm. "Chris, for fuck's sake, yo. It's three in the morning." 

"Get the fuck on the bike," he says and sounds serious, but he's smiling, and Justin sighs. Chris is the type of guy who'll get into a fist fight to get someone to do something he has his heart set on, and Justin is exactly the type of person to humour him and save his own pretty face. 

"You owe me," Justin breathes and pokes the blue and white monstrosity, convinced it's going to crumble, but Chris is already on and waiting. Justin gets on behind him, and it's a very tight fit. "Fuck, man. I'm getting crushed here." 

"Not much to crush, Jup," Chris says, and he's smiling. Justin thumps him on the back but laughs, and off they go into the night, on a loud and smelly moped. 

~~~ 

There's a group meeting at Justin's house the next morning, and Chris is asleep on the couch. Justin's in the kitchen making coffee while Lance puts together some breakfast. They can hear Joey and JC outside, admiring the moped. Justin and Lance don't understand why it would ever be considered cool, but when Joey comes into the kitchen and calls them children, they mostly get it. Lance and Justin are obviously much cooler in their young age, though Justin's staring at Lance's blouse, complete with ruffles and rhinestones, and thinks Lance isn't all that cool either. 

"Beautiful moped, dude," Joey says, ruffling Chris's hair as Chris wanders into the kitchen, yawning and scratching his stomach through his thin white tee-shirt. Justin gives him a cup of coffee, and Chris smiles. They were out until five, driving through the streets and polluting the environment, and Justin's only regretting it a little bit. 

"1988 Honda Monkey, man," Chris says proudly, and JC whistles, snacking on a danish. Justin shakes his head and rolls his eyes, and Lance laughs to himself, an apple to his lips. "The infants don't seem to respect the ‘ped." 

Lance wipes his lips dry before speaking. "It's kinda nerdy, Chris." 

Chris jumps on Lance's back and nips at his ears, and Lance drops the apple, laughing as he tries to shake Chris off. "You dissin' me, Lance? Because we can and will take this outside, Sparkle Boy. I've gotta defend Justin's honour." 

Justin looks up. "My honour? I don't even like the thing." 

"No, fool," Chris says, lightly tapping Justin's face, and Justin flicks lukewarm coffee at him, grumbling. "The moped's name is Justin, too." 

Joey and JC are howling, though JC tries to hide it, and Lance asks, "um. Why?" 

"Blue and white, man. Jup in a nutshell, my favourite white-boy in baby blue threads," Chris says and grips Justin a headlock, knuckling his head. Justin is a bright shade of red and doesn't want to press the subject further by asking more questions. 

Chris, though, changes the subject and asks to get the party started because he has things to see and people to do. As everyone moves into the living room, Lance starts complaining about A Happy Place, and JC nods solemnly, not really listening but knowing when to shake his head. Joey grabs three donuts as Chris slaps Justin's ass and tells him to get a move on. 

~~~ 

Justin finds himself outside at midnight, staring at the moped. It's small and ugly, and he really doesn't think it's a cool thing to own. Maybe if Chris got a Harley, maybe then it would cool, but Justin's staring at it and can't see the point. 

He didn't notice last night, but the name _Justin_ is stencilled along the back, but the letters are old and worn, like the name's been there a long time. He runs his fingers over the word, feeling where the blue metal ends and the silver paint begins. It's a smooth transition. 

"That's almost masturbation," Chris says, and Justin looks up, realising he's sitting on the moped backwards while he fingers his name. The name, he corrects himself, they just happen to share it. "I'll bring it back to my place." 

"You can keep it here," Justin says and inwardly hits himself because it's ugly and old and rusty, and he doesn't want it in his driveway, but they share the same name. "I mean, um. It's not as bad as I thought. Not really." 

Chris walks closer, and Justin runs his fingers over the name again, biting his lip. Chris crouches down and looks up at him, and says, "you can have it, then, if you want. That's cool," he says and touches the name, too. "It's cool." 

"Maybe I'll just keep it here for you," Justin says, wondering if that's the right answer. "Do you want to come inside or something?" 

Chris nods, and Justin gets off the moped, elegant and tall, and he looks down at Chris, whose hair is a patchwork of orange and red. Blue and white, orange and red, Justin is lost in the colour, and Chris flicks him on the shoulder. Justin stops staring, and they go inside, where all they can do is watch a movie together, on edge for reasons Chris knows and Justin can only guess at. He thinks he gets it, but he's never sure. 

Outside, it starts to rain, and Justin worries the moped will rust. 

~~~ 

Two days later, Chris comes over again and walks into Justin's house without knocking. Justin is in the kitchen, wearing a pair of old tattered jeans while the laundry runs and washes his good stuff. Chris hops up on the counter, his boots hitting the cupboards. The kitchen is only dimly lit; it's midnight and Justin is preparing a midnight snack. 

"Hey," Chris says, and Justin smiles. "I see Justin has a friend." 

Justin nods and continues cutting the carrots into long, thin slices. "Yeah. I guess." 

"Unless they get it on, and then it's moped love," Chris says, and Justin laughs, agrees with a hum. He glances out the window where another moped is in the driveway, a startling mix of red and orange, and he fears he's being obvious, but he's sure Chris was obvious first. "Wanna tear up the road?" 

Justin nods and says, "just have to grab a shirt, yo. Be right back." 

Chris is waiting outside, Justin-the-moped raging between his legs, and Justin tries to think clean thoughts. This is probably the weirdest flirtation he's ever been involved in, but that's Chris in a nutshell, weird and quirky and somehow making the most bizarre things normal. 

Justin drives in front of Chris, fearful of inhaling the exhaust and ending his short life, but Chris is right on his ass, making him go faster than he should. Justin suspects they look like fools, but there's something about Chris that makes Justin forget about his popstar image. 

Justin takes Chris to a secret spot JC covets, a place that Justin's been to a few times, and once to make out with JC just to see what it was like. It was all right, Justin remembers, but weird because it was JC he was kissing. Justin figures it wouldn't be so strange with Chris. Chris makes things like mopeds and kissing best friends normal and cool. 

"They look good together," Chris says when they're lying in the grass, looking where the mopeds are lined up next to each other, steady in the dark, and Justin's intensely aware of the pretense and not yet willing to let it go. Chris started it, and it's Justin's turn to follow through, but he's afraid of the changes it'll cause and a little bit scared. 

"They do," Justin finally says, and the only differences between the mopeds are the colours, warm and cool, and the age, young and old. Justin's moped doesn't have rust or history or worn letters but a fresh paint job and a brand new stencil of the word _Chris_ that Justin knows Chris saw. Justin thinks his moped might make history tonight. 

"You want me to make the first move?" Chris asks, and Justin nods, staring at the grass, picking at it. Chris touches Justin's shoulder and pushes gently, so Justin rolls onto his back and blinks at the moon. Chris puts his mouth over Justin's, and Justin opens like a flower in sun, breathing in and touching Chris's tongue with his own. 

They've been building up to this for years, but they needed an excuse to taste each from the inside, needed a pretense and a moped. Or two, Justin thinks, two to break down the friendship and build it up again as something sexual and loving, two to press lips together and explore moist heat. 

Justin's sighing happy, little noises, pressed against the ground and dipped into the moist ground, and Chris is above him, sucking on Justin's lips, jaw, neck, growling in the way Chris does when he's happy or turned on. Ten feet away, the mopeds fall into each other loudly, and Justin jumps, banging his head against Chris's chin. 

"Fuck," Chris whispers and laughs into Justin's chest where Justin is breathing hard and heavy, too stunned to laugh. The mopeds are on their sides, all tangled up, and Chris is wheezing with laughter. "Our mopeds are fucking! Moped love, baby. Beautiful." 

Justin finally smiles and looks over, how the red and orange moped named Chris lies on the blue and white moped named Justin, and how they've settled there, and how they match despite the wild colours or the differences in ages. Justin puts his hands on Chris's face, bringing him back, and kisses him deeply for a few, brief seconds. 

Seriously, Justin manages to say, "let's show the ‘peds how it's done, yo." 

And Chris grins.


End file.
